Chapter 34
Ihesitate at the doors to my CIA office. I haven’t set foot in here in months, and for good reason.
Ella grabs my hand and gives it a squeeze in silent support.
I reach for the door and open it. Everything is the same as it was before I left. Not a paper has been touched, but it feels different somehow—foreign.
“Dec will be here any minute. Do you need anything?” Ella asks, falling into her assistant role like she’d never been kicked out of it.
“No, thank you.” I’m still standing in the doorway like an idiot, afraid to enter my office.
Ella pats me on the shoulder before turning and heading to find Declan.
“Dec tells me you have the evidence, and Mr. Mills is behind bars?” Gray’s voice pulls me out of my trance, and my instincts are instantly on high alert.
I want to kill the man for what he’s done.
For all the people in that square who died.
For the entire mess I find myself in. But I can’t say a damn word. Not until Eagan has what we need.
I play the part I’ve always played so well. The submissive, people-pleasing woman. I turn and smile sweetly. “We do. Enough to get the trial dropped. At least, that’s what Dec says.”
He sighs as though he didn’t believe Declan until I confirmed it. “Good. That’s good.”
I didn’t notice his tells before, but I do now. I thought it was fear of losing his job at the CIA, but now I see it for what it really is. He’s afraid of a blown cover. He’s scared of his own damn shadow. Because perhaps he knows I’m not exactly who I pretend to be, either.
I’m something so much worse.
I cock my head to the side, still smiling. “Afraid of something, Gray?”
He narrows his gaze, and something changes in his face. He knows I know, or at least he suspects that I do.
My smile widens as I wait for his answer.
“Not at all, Miss Riley. Just worried for your career.”
I wave my hand at him. “Don’t be. I put in for my resignation. I have nothing left to lose.” I emphasize the last part.
His eyes widen, and there is genuine fear there. He stumbles over his words. “I thought this job was everything to you?”
“Perhaps you don’t know me as well as you think you do, Mr. Gray.”
“Oh, Gray, did she tell you I am also stepping down after the trial of Mr. Mills?” Declan comes up beside us.
If possible, Gray’s eyes widen even further. If he didn’t know he’s fucked before, he certainly does now. Our resignation means we’re coming for blood.
Gray takes a few steps away from us, stumbling a little.
I look down at my nails. “You know, that little warehouse you said was abandoned and empty? Well, turns out”—I pause and look him dead in the eye—“you’re a big fucking liar.”
All color drains from Gray’s face as Declan waves a hand at the seemingly-empty hallway. CIA agents swarm Gray, and among his shouts of innocence, Declan leans in close and whispers to me, “Eagan sent the evidence we need to put him behind bars, along with the drugs from the warehouse.”
I lean my head against Declan’s shoulder as the agents tug Gray down the hall and out of sight.
“What now?” I ask.
Declan’s draws me further against his side. “We get your boyfriend back.”
Peyton reluctantly complies with all of the lawyer's demands, and much to my delight, I learn his birth name is Edwin Irving.
Noah has no qualms using it against him, and I’m here for it. I haven’t laughed this much in ages.
Though Peyton acts miserable at his new predicament, I can tell he’s happy with how it all turned out. I catch his smiles when he turns his back on everyone, and a light in his eyes that wasn’t there before.
This is exactly what he wanted, and we played right into his hands. I can’t find the energy to be mad about it. Not if it gets Owen out of jail.
“Ten A.M., Peyton. If you are late, I will personally hunt you down and make your life a living hell,” I warn.
Peyton frowns, knowing full well that I will come through on that threat. I will do anything to make sure the trial goes exactly how we’ve planned it. Owen’s lawyers are thrilled with all the evidence we collected.
“How is he?” I ask one of them, Laurie, an older woman with silver hair and a kind smile.
“As well as you can expect him to be, given the circumstances. I think he’s more optimistic since we presented the evidence and the case we’re going for, but he doesn’t want to get his hopes up.”
“I think she’s asking if he’s asked about her,” Peyton interrupts.
I shoot him a glare that could kill, even if what he’s saying is true. He laughs and holds up his hands in surrender, turning to grab yet another cup of coffee from Owen’s bar. No one’s slept in days.
Laurie chuckles at Peyton’s words, and my face heats, but her smile quickly fades as she answers, “No, dear. He hasn’t asked about you.”
Parker’s been latched onto every word the lawyers have said, but he quickly switches his attention to my reaction, his face falling.
I nod. I didn’t expect anything more, but damn if it doesn’t hurt.
“Does he know she’s involved in getting the evidence?” Parker asks, lips pulling into a thin line.
Laurie nods. “He’s been told everything.”
I change the subject, unsure I can take any more of this. “We will be there, on time.” I glare at Peyton for emphasis. “And we’ll be holding our breath.”
Laurie gets up and smiles at me, patting me on the arm. Her colleague quietly gathers their papers and stuffs them in their duffel bag.
“For what it’s worth, Miss Riley,” Laurie continues, “he’d be a damn fool not to see what you’ve sacrificed for this evidence.”
I nod, willing the emotion to stay buried deep, deep down. “Thank you.”
No one says anything as the two lawyers leave. It’s as if her words sit heavy in the room, and everyone is too afraid to set me off.
“I’m not a damn ticking time bomb for fucks’ sake,” I snap. “You all look as though someone died.”
Noah scratches at his beard while Parker’s face flushes. Noell squeezes his hand, and no one misses the movement.
“I’ll kill him,” Parker mumbles.
I raise a brow.
“I’ll kill him if he doesn’t forgive you for this. I’ll never forgive him. That will show him!”
I laugh, loud and hard, clutching at my stomach. His words are so juvenile and so much like a younger brother that my chortle soon turns into a sob.
To have that kind of love.
Parker doesn’t hesitate to come wrap me in a hug. He smells a bit like Owen, and it only makes me cry harder.
“I’m so tired, Parker. So fucking tired.” I sob into his chest.
He strokes my hair gently. “I know you are. It’s almost over.”
Tomorrow. It ends tomorrow.